


if it does not get better

by wolfcigs



Category: Love Live! Sunshine!!, 声優 | Seiyuu RPF
Genre: Angst, Depression, F/F, RPF, Short One Shot, Songfic, rated teen cuz it has a swear word and its a little heavy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 11:53:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19811767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfcigs/pseuds/wolfcigs
Summary: our own worlds weren't enough to help us stay above the weight of what the world really was.-anju and shuka have a short, heavy conversation in bed.





	if it does not get better

**Author's Note:**

> a very quick little one-shot somewhat song-fic i wrote to get myself in the writing mood to continue work on chapter 4 of Hands, which i hope to continue work on this week. enjoy~  
> [here's the song it's based on](https://jordaanmason.bandcamp.com/track/it-does-not-get-better)

“You look sad, Anchan.”

The thick, stagnant air of the hotel room, filled with the dull droning of the AC and ambient city noise just outside the window, was split into with a knife by one female voice. Inami Anju didn’t react, beyond blinking a handful of times up at the ceiling stretched above her.

“I look tired.” Anju replied simply. “It’s really late, Shuka.” She gave a lazy glance to the side, meeting eyes with the girl curled up beside her in bed. The eyes she met were wider than a pair should be in the dead of night, and the faraway city lights that streaked in through the blinds reflected in them only amplified their size and shape. Anju tore her gaze away.

“We usually stay up later than this.” Shuka muttered. “Do you wanna keep talking?”

“Mm.” The older girl returned her attention back to the ceiling. “I might fall asleep. You can keep talking, though.” 

The room returned to stillness, and Anju closed her eyelids. The feeling of Shuka’s stare was tangible on her skin, however, and made it difficult to relax.

“I worry about you a lot.” Shuka breathed, and Anju flinched under the covers. “I wish I could take half your workload for you, sometimes.” Her voice was quiet, honest, and tinged with an unfamiliar sadness. Anju felt her fingertips creeping up across the top of her hand. Shuka’s finely manicured nails dragged gently along the surface of her skin, idly drawing circles over each tendon and knuckle. “Not that I don’t think you can handle it, you know.” She caught herself quickly.

“I didn’t interpret it that way.” Anju whispered and lifted her hand from the mattress, leisurely lacing their fingers together.

“I just wanted to make sure.” Shuka rubbed her thumb along the other’s wrist.

Letting a soft sigh exit her lungs, Anju gave her co-worker's bony hand a gentle squeeze. “Things will get better. You don’t have to stress out over me and my bullshit. I’ll be fine. Eventually.” She gave a half-hearted, breathy laugh.

“And if things don’t?”

Shuka’s voice was unusually grave; the tone was enough to pry both Anju’s eyes open and prompt her to turn her head. Shuka’s never-ending stare was filled with a genuine fear, and she felt a pit form in her gut. Anju wanted to reply, but the words died on her dry tongue. Inside her skull, the desire to comfort the smaller girl next to her in bed fought with the knowledge that she couldn’t lie to her. What  _ if _ things never got better? Anju had entertained the thought more times than was healthy, but she’d never thought to verbalize them, and so she stayed silent for a few moments more.

“I wanna dig out your bad thoughts with a shovel and plant them in my head instead.” Shuka held her hand firmly. Anju couldn’t muster a response. She parted her lips to mutter an apology that never came, but wouldn’t have been accepted anyways. There was nothing to apologize for, and the silence returned. Enveloped in the heat of the summer night, the dull buzzing of the air conditioner, and the weight of Shuka’s words, Anju could say nothing. She could only lay in the dark, stare into the other girl’s eyes, and make some childish attempt at telepathic communication. If she thought the words  _ “I’m scared I won’t get better, I’m scared I’ll be sad forever, I’m scared you’ll fall out of love with me” _ as hard as she could, over and over, maybe they’d forgo being verbalized aloud and jump straight to Shuka’s mind. But, no matter how hard she thought, it was a futile effort, and the room remained just as still.

“If it does not get better, will you still be here?”

The vagueness of Shuka’s question begged for a straight answer that both girls knew she would not get.


End file.
